Sugar Cookies and Smirnoff
by BubblyMoocows
Summary: First SP fanfic! KennyxButters. Huh...Who knew they'd end up like this? Chapter 11 Up! Please REVIEW!
1. Faultlessly Fucked Up

Disclaimer: bursts into tears

Chapter 1. Faultlessly Fucked Up

The austere gray heavens shuddered violently. Skeletal, black fingers of desolate forest caught against the clouds, now a brooding company of modest plumes. They bloomed steadily upon the threateningly turbulent skies. 'Why did it have to rain now?' Watery, silver light spilled from the breach in the swollen, glossy bolls, collecting in blinding puddles against the glittering blue pavement. I sighed dolefully, scraping mud from the heels of my ratty, black Converse All-stars. My eyes smoldered with somber, bottle green light, sobriety long lost to fervor.

Beads of acidic rain tore into my shoulder blades, the unpleasant feeling biting pitilessly into the nape of my neck. I didn't have a pot to pee in, nor a window to throw it out of. I was alone. I was someone's dejected derelict. And I was drunk.

I cast my distorted gaze upon the once dewy emerald lawn, stained with golden, dappled light. Mottled with sprays of silent beds of stippled pink and orange blossoms. The once pompous blue heads of hydrangeas hung dejectedly in the gentle rain. It had been a pretty day out. I toyed absentmindedly with dishwater blonde locks, winding golden strands idly amid my fingers.

I lifted the thick, discolored folds of my jacket's hood over my head, pulling the drawstrings tight until they slid across my sweaty palms, leaving behind little red welts. The voices blared obnoxiously in my head, further aggravating my already pulsing migraine. My dewy pink lips worked silently, forming broken mantras and abandoned theories in the sky. Everything just looked so... severe. So polemic, and old-fashioned; positively archaic.

I tottered gracelessly and stupidly, smiling blissfully to myself. A strangled cry passed my lips as the gritty pavement came up to meet my palms, digging relentlessly into my knees. My face contorted childishly as I muttered stale, faltering curses beneath my breath. The bottle shattered stridently against the curb, violently disturbing me from my drunken eulogy. A balmy apprehension settled into the pit of my stomach, and I emptied myself out onto the driveway. My hand reached up and toyed with the silvery thorn dangling freely from my ear. I grunted, and plopped down against the curb. I fingered the soft tears in the knees of my sandblasted, baggy jeans.

I looked good this year. Different. My blonde hair grew a little past the nape of my neck, and my eyes had gotten...bluer, or something, 'startlingly blue', Kyle had told me. I had changed the whole 'orange parka' thing. Now it was a hoodie, striped, black and gray, soft, a little loose-fitting. I scratched at my black 'Mayhem' t-shirt. Most people would call me 'punk', or some shit like that. Yeah, I still looked at porn, I still fucked like a rabbit, I still had the same close friends--I was the same.

I had a job, working at some coffee place, and I made good money. I had a car now, a black Kia. Not some Ferrari, but I kept it clean. I wouldn't let Craig smoke in it, and I made sure that Tweak didn't have some seizure in the back seat and smash out a window.

I broke from my whole 'reverie' when I heard scratching against the pavement ahead of me.

I glanced up, surprised to see a blonde head bobbing up to meet my gaze, disturbingly blue eyes studying me anxiously, truly concerned. "Gee, K-Kenny, a-are you all right?" That voice...

"B-Butters?"

He realized I had been talking to him, and he smiled happily. He was wearing a loose, bright yellow, hooded t-shirt, and black capri-length pajama pants and ankle socks. He looked as though he was about to go to bed. His blonde hair was tousled cutely, and his brilliant, clear blue eyes were wide and childlike.

He held out a hand, smiling adorably. "What are y-you doing out here, t-tonight, Kenny?" I offered him a smile, and took his hand, brushing myself off. I staggered dangerously, before falling into him slightly. 'Damn... he smells like vanilla and baby lotion...' I sighed contentedly, before mentally kicking my ass.

Before I knew it, he was leading me to his doorstep.

"M-my parents are g-gone for the week."

'Hmmm...' 


	2. Got a Little Thing for You

I didn't really like how this chapter came out!! I'm getting kinda discouraged!!!

Chapter 2: Because I Got a Little 'thing' for You.

Butters was still holding my hand. I didn't mind it much, and still hadn't figured out why I hadn't freaked out at his touch. 'Maybe you.. like it?', the little asshat of a conscience drawled arrogantly. See, that's why people think I'm a pervert! Because of this little smartass! I momentarily willed the suggestion from my thoughts. In the balmy blue streetlight, I watched as he turned around to face me, his gaze cordial and delighted. He finally fit the key in the hole--'heh heh...'---and turned the knob, signaling me to follow him inside.

The atmosphere was pleasant and hospitable, though I knew better. I glanced up at the blonde, and caught him staring fixedly at me, his little pink tongue sticking out in concentration. I laughed quietly, and smirked a little. "Hey, Butters, see somethin' you like?"

A blush stained his once thoughtful expression, and he jolted from his thoughts. "Um, s-sorry, Kenny..." He gazed down at his socked feet in sheer embarrassment, and I suddenly had the strong urge to pounce him right there in the doorway. 'He won't mind...', my thoughts tempted again, and I shook my head vigorously.

Butters cast an amused glance at me, before seeming to remember something. "Are you h-hungry? It's n-no trouble, I-I can make some c-cookies, if ya want..." My expression involuntarily brightened at the mention of cookies. He caught this, and began to rock up and down on the balls of his feet happily.

He nodded knowingly, and slipped into the kitchen. I watched his retreating form, and hesitantly planted myself in one of the plush, blue couches. 'I'm so fucked up right now..' I heard the welcoming clatter of metallic on marble, the tearing of foil... It was oddly comforting. My head nodded steadily, the air growing thick and mild against the base of my skull. 'I really want to just... sleep.' 'With whom?', my thoughts chirped devilishly, and I pinched the bridge of my nose like I had seen Stan do so many other times. I shrugged off my jacket, and ran my hands jadedly through my blonde head.

'I really need a smoke...' I fumbled with the lighter and the couple of looseys in my pocket, before sighing exasperatingly, and shoving them farther down. "What the fuck am I thinking," I wondered aloud, and for once I thought I had really been expecting an answer. "A-are you alright?" I heard the voice drift out along the stifling haze of my mental turmoil and my head snapped up lazily, searching numbly for the source of the sound.

I stupidly watched as Butters sauntered towards me, his slight hips swaying delicately, his pouty, dewy, hot lips parted ever so sli-- 'I am SUCH a fucking psycho. Butters did NOT saunter. Damn it. ' He set a plate of what seemed like sugar cookies on the table, and tentatively handed me a glass of milk. "Y-you know, I think you should stay the night, K-Kenny. You're drunk, Mister, a-and it's not safe to b-be out there alone." He had an sweetly determined expression on his face, as if willing me to stay there with him.

I nodded, submitting to the suggestion easily. We sat in a sociable stillness for what seemed like an eternity, making small talk, him giggling, me smiling. He was so...simple. So easy to get along with, unlike the many unstable broads I had dated.

Butters was what you would call a real straight arrow, a 'Southern Belle', if he were a chick. He pretty much wanted everything to be simple and pleasant. The blood and squalor of life that keeps the majority of us intrigued and tantalized held no appeal for him.

After we saw Casualties of War at Craig's one night, a movie where Sean Penn and Michael J. Fox play soldiers whose squadron in Vietnam rapes and beats a poor peasant girl to death, Butters just kept asking me what the point was to sitting through hall that messy sordidness and 'ickyness'. Let's just say that Broadway musicals like Annie and Oklahoma! were probably invented with people like him in mind. He was positively childlike. Everything kind of slid by Butters: I honestly believe that when the rain falls down, it never lands on him.

If he weren't so cute and sociable, I'm not sure he'd exist at all, since he lacks most vital signs. But his pulchritude is almost a part of the problem: He is so faultlessly innocent that he actually seems sterile, possessed of such a pure and symmetrical attitude that is devoid of the sexual tension and perversion any boy his age would possess.

I offer him a lopsided smile, which causes his clear blue eyes to widen, and him to giggle contentedly. I yawn and ruffle my nearly shoulder length hair, blowing the golden bangs from my eyes. He eyes me curiously, before standing up and offering his hand. "C-c'mon Kenny, let's g-go to the bedroom." My brain has heard that before, and before I realize it, 'little Ken' has gotten excited over this new proposal.

"Fuck," I muttered harshly under my breath, and I follow Butter's up the stairs. There are photos on the wall, of him and his parents, and I wonder if those smiles are genuine.

I think back to my family back at 'home', and how it was just so... fucked up.

To most, there are two kinds of dysfunctional families: those who don't talk enough, and those who talk too damn much. The former always comes across as the more tragic, the more Eugene O'Neillish. These are the families in which everyone is so fearful of expressing not just their emotions, but absolutely anything, that they all drink or do drugs and get fucked up in their silence.

Then one day, one of the kids gets busted at school for smoking a joint in the stairwell, or maybe the daughter gets knocked up, and the parents see that all kinds of hell is going on while they sip their martinis and such on their green olives, and finally the whole family ends up seeing a counselor.

Complete bullshit. There's MY family, the company of fucked up hicks, the people who enjoy TV dinners and game shows, all in front of an 11 inch screen. The people who waste their money on booze and cheap booze. I snort irritably.

I break my attention from my mental debate and follow Butters into his room. The walls are a pale, cool blue , and the bed is fitted with thick, navy blue comforters. Just what I expected. There's a flat screen computer in the corner on a nice little white wood desk, and a matching dresser across the room next to the wide window. Again, simple. I like it.

Butters smiles sheepishly at me and begins to fix up the sheets. He fluffs the pillows carefully, and smoothes his hands along the comforter. "There ya g-go." He smiles again, a confident smile, one I think I'd like to remember, and points towards his bed.

I looked at him confusedly, before asking "Then where will you sleep?" There's a bit of concern in my voice. I don't really know where it came from. He smiles again, and gestures to the door. "W-well, on the couch." I shake my head and traipse across the room, pushing him gently onto the bed. "No, you're not. You're sleeping with me." His eyes widen, and he blushes furiously. I smirk amusedly.

"B-but Kenny, I c-can't, y-you're...", he trails off, as if too weak to end his sentence. I get up to flick off the light switch. The room is bathed in muted moonlight, and I sit at the edge of the bed and untie my Converse. I glance over my shoulder at him, to see him glancing back at me, his eyes studying my back questioningly. I crawl over to him, and smile, though my heart is fluttering ardently against my ribcage.

I lay down next to him, and he scuttles closer to me, almost until my chin is resting atop his tousled blonde head. I close my eyes and spoil myself, content in Butter's house, in his bed, in his presence.

He shifts a bit, just enough to be able to look at my face. "Kenny? Are we friends?", he asks quietly. I smiled against him, and reply, "I really think so." He smiles warmly against my neck, and for once I feel all right.

And that's when I realize it. We left the cookies downstairs.

Bubbly: Oh my god!!! I'm sorry that sucked, and i drabbled way too much!!! gaaaahhh!! so sorry!! Read and Review!!! 


	3. Back To School, yeah?

Bubbly: this is a pretty short chapter!! BUt!!!! there will be quite a long one comin' up!!!

Chapter Three: Back at School

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The dappled golden silhouettes of morning light hung warmly against the walls, and the air glittered with the presence of wandering dust clouds. I sat up blearily, the artificial silence growing hot and distorted against the bridge of my nose. My eyes remained shut, fingers ghosting over fresh linen, searching for any traces of the blonde next to me.

I shifted confusedly, taking in my surroundings with mild curiosity. I cradled my head in the palms of my hands, liberating one of the strangled noises spilling into my throat. It came out as a sort of moan. The sound of feet padding up the stairs alerted my blue gaze to the bedroom door.

Butters walked in, donning a tight (emo style!!) pair of black jeans and a loose fitting gray t-shirt. His bright, candy red converse all-stars drew attention to a pair of disturbingly brilliant blue eyes. He smiled readily, blonde locks spilling adorably into his line of vision, as he offered a hand.

"I didn't h-have any breakfast f-foods, or anything, so I thought I'd m-make some coffee. Do you like s-strawberry p-poptarts, Kenny?"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

We meandered up the side walk in comfortable silence, a thermos of black coffee and (chocolate milk for Butters, because "Well, gee, i-it just makes me s-so i-i-irratable.") warm strawberry poptarts. The skies rippled with mild sunshine, and the mounds of snow lay in silvery knolls beneath the watery butter-yellow sunlight.

Our breath poured out onto the sheer, icy breeze, floating up and away into the molten blue sky.

"Damn, it's fuckin' cold out here, dude," I forced out through trembling lips, my gaze locking with the vacant bus top. The dull spark of rusted cars shone from the school's parking lot, and my pace quickened.

"Kenny, I think w-we're a little l-late..." I nodded, and his stride soon fell into step with mine.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I meandered with Butters into the junior parking lot, blue eyes searching for my group of friends. I smiled, unexplainably satisfied with myself. I approached Stan, Kyle, Cartman, Tweek, Craig, and Clyde grouped around Craig and Stan's cars. I grinned amusedly as Stan and Kyle beamed dotingly at each other. "You two are so obvious!" I yelled out happily, and Butters cocked his head to the side, a small smile gracing his lips.

Kyle blushed, and Stan smiled dreamily to himself, before turning back to me with a goofy grin on his face. "Up yours, McCormick!"

I turned my gaze to the other couple of the group. I watched as Craig blew candy cigarette smoke rings at a trembling Tweek, teasing him gently as he pulled him up into his embrace. "Gaah!" Craig rubbed his nose gently against Tweek's in an affectionate Eskimo kiss.

'Damn. Am I the only one who hasn't settled down?' I turned to look at Butters, who was now talking to Clyde, that chronic happiness just radiating off of him. I bit my lip contemplatively, and pushed the warning signs to the back and base of my skull.

I came up behind him, and wrapped my arms around him carefully, lips brushing the nape of his neck, and then to his jaw, pulling him closer to my body. He let out a soft gasp, and relaxed in my embrace, my lips resting atop his golden blonde head.

We were both blushing, I could tell. I decided to release the tension and play it all off. I released him, and he turned around, meeting my smile with surprise. "Just, ya know, for lettin' me stay over. Just a... friendly hug, yeah?" We held each other's gaze, before he dropped it, a small blush dusting across his face and a smile gracing his lips.

"Y-yeah..."

I could feel the stare of everyone on us now, smirks and knowing smiles.

I just wanted to choke them. Well, not really. But yeah. You know. Okay. That's settled

'Fuck.'

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

TBC...

bUBBLY: Omgosh!! Sorry, short chapter!! Exams just came up, and i need to study,(I'm a highschool freshman!!!) but I didn't wanna leave ya hangin!! REview!! I need them to continue!! Look forward to a long, juicyyyyyyy!!!! chapter comin' up in a couple of days, k?!!!

OH, and tell me where you want all these pairings to go!! affection, smut, manshmex!!??? I do this for you!!!! sorry, I'm pretty energetic!!! hell yeah!!!!

REvvvvvviiiiiieeeeeeeWWWWWW!!!!! 


	4. Delighting in the Felony

Not a VERY long chappy, kay? sorry!! sorry!! I must repent!! It's kind of choppy, but I wanted to have this chapter have a second part to it!? is that okay!!!????

Here we go!!

Disclaimer: Me no own!!

Chapter 4: Delighting in the Felony

Kenny's POV 

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

First Period

I sat in the back of the classroom, amongst the rotting textbooks and stench of decaying linen. The monotonous Southern drawl of the woman at the front of the room faded against my skull, and it felt as though my temples had eroded away.

I had this class with Tweek and Butters. I spared Tweek a curious glance, taking in his mossy bottle green eyes and yellow-blonde hair. I smirked. Craig had good taste. A spastic, cute blonde. All those spasms? Like a fucking 5'6" vibrator! Must be all that caffeine. But my smiled soon softened. Craig _loved_ him. _Craig _loved _Tweek. They loved each other. _

A molten sensation rippled fervently against my ribcage, and a whole _lexicon _of thought spilled into my throat. My finger smoothed over the wheel of my MP3, and onto the volume, static white noise dripping steadily into my ears, and I immediately cast my gaze to the blonde in front of me. Butters.

He shifted uncomfortably, and I smiled tenderly, running the palms of my hands along the worn base of my desk.

'How'd _I_ get so fucked up?' I thought lightheartedly. I broke from my train of thought, and set to reading a few of the scribbled notes along the desk. 'Haley loves Carson,' a girl's shy, bubbly note read. I smiled to myself, and my blue gaze flicked up momentarily to glance at the back of Butter's head.

The teacher continued to heave up worded bile and point to the summaries written on the board.

Now, this was sex-ed, but what did I _not _know? Doggy style, 69's, missionary, I've done it all. And I had gotten bored of putting condoms on bananas, so I stuck to eating them instead, despite the looks I got from the teacher and the giggles from the students.

I returned to reading the notes, and my eyes settled upon one, tiny, though colorfully flamboyant note in the corner. 'You have to learn to harbor chaos, to give birth to a true star.' My mouthful of air spilled out into the air in front of me, hanging dejectedly for a moment, before I sharply pulled it back in, as though rationing my breaths.

"Mr. McCormick and Mr. Stotch!" I jolted up, instinctively adopting a guilty look. "H-huh?," I forced out precariously, discreetly pulling out my headphones. She cast a bored look my way. "You will be working with Mr. Stotch today. Is that fine with you?" I nodded unevenly, getting up to stand by Butter's desk.

He smiled happily up at me, his brilliant blue eyes resting on my face cheerily. Fuck the fluttering, I felt as though I was about to _vomit_ butterflies.

He stood slowly, and I watched, riveted, as though every one of his movements held a certain deliberation on his part. "S-so, Kenny, I thought w-we could do our project at my house?" I stared at him stupidly, and his brows furrowed. "Kenny?" I shuddered reluctantly, and heat pooled in smoldering puddles that dispersed beneath my frozen skin.

"So, dude, w-what are we doing?" He glanced up at me momentarily, before furrowing his brows and concentrating on his open notebook. "Physical A-Attraction."

'What the fuck!???' My thoughts staggered like drunkards about my mind, hurtling into walls and just...breaking shit.

Damnit.

I squinted up at the clock, and realized that class was over.

The harsh ring of the bell sailed along the stifling space, and I watched as students shuffled to their next period, while Butters smiled back at me. "B-bye Kenny! See you at lunch."

I nodded ardently, and stupidly, my heart thrumming in light, harmonious rhythm against my chest.

I think I've fallen for him. And pretty hard.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I sailed wordlessly down the hall, and to my locker, pausing to study its surface. Fluorescent yellow paint splotches bloomed steadily like repulsive marigolds upon the bleak metal face. This school was so poor.

We had chipped paint everywhere, and the whole fucking building smelled of formaldehyde and cheerios.

My fingers groped (A/N: with a mouth full of gummy worms hahahahahahahahahahah!!! ) awkwardly over the ribbed dial of my lock, and I tore the locker open. I scanned it's contents, before sighing and closing it gently. 'What a psycho,' my thoughts chirped up, and I had the strong desire to rip my skull from the side of my face.

I turned around abruptly to meet the face of one redhead. "Damn, dude! What the fuck?! Don't do that again!" Kyle smirked... knowingly? at me, glossy, coppery waves spilling into his face. His lime green eyes studied my face, and I could almost feel the radiation bleeding into my system. He had nice eyes... like Butters...'Come to think of it... Stan's got some perdy good taste, too.'

I smirked arrogantly to myself, and Kyle cocked his head in curiosity, pressing his back to the lockers.

"Um, Stan asked me to go to the movies with him tonight." My smirk faded away into a smile, and I shook Kyle's shoulders. "Man! That's good! So, is it like, it'll just be you and him?"

A dusty pink graced Kyle's fair face, and I realized that he had been blushing. He glanced down at his Converse shyly, and nodded, a small smile forming upon his lips.

"But, what if he doesn't think of it as a date? Like, it's just like all the other times," he looked up at me, desperate for an answer. I shut my eyes stubbornly and shook my head, squeezing Kyle's shoulders lightly. "Then, me and Cartman would have gone. '_Just like all the other times'_, remember?"

His expression brightened and he leaped up at me, hugging me. "You're such a good friend, Ken!," he squealed. I laughed, and nodded, my heart lurching. A pair of brilliant, watery blue eyes caught my eye, and I released Kyle.

Butters stood next to me, his face smiling and just as adorable. The world darkened, and the edges of it became blurred, like in some dumbass soap opera. A Spanish ballad (twangy guitars and romantic chords and all!) began to drip steadily around us. I handed him a rose, and he swooned.

"_Kenny... Kenny_? _KENNY, GODDAMNIT!!!!" _

I jolted immediately, realizing the funny and amused looks I got from Kyle, and the oblivious ones of Butters.

"Uh, what?" I muttered weakly, and Kyle smirked good-naturedly. "I'll see you in the cafeteria, dude." I nodded, and he cast a deliberate look back at me as he walked away.

I gulped, and turned back to Butters. "H-hey, dude." Since when did I stutter?

My face was hot, and through my embarrassment I noticed that he was... blushing? "Hi, Kenny."

He smiled adorably up at me, and flicked his blonde bangs from his eyes, before leaning into me, and wrapping his arms around my neck, his cheek pressed up against my chest.

I suddenly began to ration my breaths, again.

He pulled away, his fair face radiant and rosy, his blue eyes shy and cautious. "S-sorry." I glanced down, and offered him a genuine smile, and wrapped my arms around him, my cheek nestled in the tousled blonde locks. I can truly say that it felt right.

He released a sigh, and leaned back up against me, his breathing gradual and peaceful. My hand moved to the small of his back, following the slight curve, fingers tracing along the slight dip.

...it felt right.

We both broke away abruptly, looking guilty and gratified all at once. I laughed nervously. "Hey, let's go get lunch, okay?" He nodded unevenly, and I realized that our fingers had been intertwined.

He bit his lip, and our hands parted.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The Cafeteria

Damn. I didn't have lunch, and I had spent the 10 bucks I had with me on booze two nights before.

I sat at our designated table, holding my head in my palm. Stan, Kyle, Craig, Tweek and Clyde were still in the line. Butters had gone back to his locker to get something. He had his lunch, what did he have to go back to get?

I sighed submissively, my eyes scanning over the smoldering, bright colors that danced around the cafeteria. People. Students. Peers.

I felt someone shift beside me, and I looked up, to see Butters, a dogged expression settled onto his face, a fat brown lunch sack in his hand.

"This," he gestured to the fatass sack lunch, "is y-yours, Kenny." He smiled and placed it in front of me. He sat back down, and beamed at me. I cast him a curious look. "Dude, what's this? You didn't have to do this.."

He shook his head, and patted the sack's side. "I m-made some more sugar c-cookies for you. And there's a b-bottle of C-coke, too."

I looked inside, and saw a thick chicken deli sandwich, the coke, a small bundle of about 4 or five of the cookies, a peach, and a small container of ribbon shaped pasta. It looked awesome. Better than the lunch here at school, _and_ at home...

"Hey, dude!" I heard Stan call out, the rest of the guys following him to the table. They all sat down, and I glanced over at Craig as he pecked Tweek on his nose, the looks that Stan and Kyle exchanged unknowingly.

I turned to Butters and smiled. "Thanks. It looks great."

I leaned over and planted a doting kiss to his temple, and moved down to his lips, and it seemed as though time itself had gone off and fucked itself. His lips were warm and dewy, supple and sweet. I pulled away, feeling pairs of eyes on my cheek, those watery blue eyes looking back at me with a look of surprise and... was it disgust?

I got up abruptly, and tore down the aisle, my mind caking over with dust and abhorrence. Molten tears burned in smoldering paths down my face, and I felt my heart collapse in on itself.

'What the hell have I done?'

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Bubby: GAAH! ER, is it good! will be a two part, kay!!?? Sorry, that it's not 'JUUUUUIIIIICCCCCYYYYY!!!! ... oh well!!! my mind is kinda... bleah. djklfdsajklfdsjklfdsjkfds, kay????!!!! REVIEW!!!!! ALL HAIL THE GOLDEN FUCKING ARCHES!!!!!!!!! takes another hit on her bubblegum cigarrette Give me FANCY PLANTs AND PERDY PILLS!!!!


	5. What the Fuck's Yellow?

Bubbly: Kinda a stupid chappy, kay? I'm soooo Sooorrrrryyy!!! I keep feeling like the quality of my chapters keep... getting worse and worse...Not so hyper... BUt, I got nice grades on those exams! Yes!

This chapter is the result of listening to Blue October's newest song on repeat for 2 hours.

Disclaimer: (smiles) Here we go!

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter 5: What the fuck's Yellow?

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I stood against the crude brick wall, eyes closed, waiting for my heart to finally decay--right here-- _him _still inside, of course. Those glorious, brilliant blue eyes will begin to steadily wilt away, and his smile will die delicately upon the breeze. And I will forget.

But...it doesn't seem to happen that way. A honeyed voice drowns my disturbing thoughts in a gummy, sugary silence, but I disregard it completely. _How could he do this to me? _

He must be disgusted with me, repulsed, frustrated...I don't think I can suffer his hostility. I can hardly endure his smile.

Fuck all this angst. I just fuckin' kissed the boy of my dreams!--scratch that, it sounds gay. Hah, like I should be talking.

And then I realize that I _really _need to stop rambling.

There's no window for my **dignity** to fly out of, and so I lean over and heave **it** all up and onto the glittering snow, and tell **it** I'll be back later.

I walk a few feet down the sidewalk, and rest against another spot on the wall. I cast another agitated glance toward my discarded self-respect, before turning around and releasing a girlish squeal.

'Shit..' I mutter faintly, an idiotic smile etched onto my features. I'm obsessed. I smile to myself, pressing up against the wall once more and sighing in rapt delight. I'm fucked up. I'm a freak. I'm in _love_... The glacial breeze ripples sleepily, toying with my hair. I'm as useless as a five pound sac of wooden nickels, and yet I can still feel... elated? Euphoric, delighted, infatuated, smitten, head over heels in lo--Whoa, Kenny! What the fuck!?

I thump my chest in a way that will hopefully sustain a few ounces of my rapidly failing manhood.

I regain a 'masculine' stance, my hands slipping into my pockets, deadening fingertips tracing along the creases in the plastic of my cigarette pack.

'Maybe I should smoke?' I shake my head distastefully, and cast my bright orange lighter to the frozen, disdainful mounds of rime upon the cement.

I pause momentarily and consider my previous action, before casting a somnolent glance towards my lighter and picking it up again. I sigh jadedly and put it back in its rightful pocket.

"Now I _know_ I'm fucked up," I joke lightheartedly.

The watery sunlight spans blindingly across the horizon, a brilliant white cord upon the startlingly blue sky. It bathes the emaciated brown leaves of the elms and the maples in divine delight.

I sigh distractedly, closing my eyes, waiting for the world to stagnate and rot away like old, yellowing lace.

_After all this time that I had been waiting, like some latter-day Miss Havisham, for the one perfect person for whom to spoil and adore, while the cobwebs grew between my molars and my lacy white cake splintered away: _I came to realize that I had had someone all along.

I hear footsteps. Time settles in dusty remains upon the fallen snow, and static tears across my vision.

"W-Why'd you leave?" I hear someone whisper quietly, regretfully.

I feel something, wet and velvety, kneading my lips in tactful, warm, feathery touches.

My mind cakes over silently with unstructured thought, and I lay there, a catalyst for this new found gratification.

_Imagine, if you will, a worldwide conspiracy to deny the existence of the color yellow. And whenever you saw yellow, they told you, no that isn't yellow, what the fuck's yellow? Eventually, whenever you saw yellow, you would say: that isn't yellow, course it isn't, blue or green or purple, or...You'd say it, yes it is, it's yellow, and become increasingly hysterical, and then go quite mad. _

Damnit, I hate it when I ramble like that.

My blue eyes open slowly, and I'm met with the flushed face of... Butters?

He's kissing me. _He's_ kissing _me_. He's _kissing_ me. My skin is suddenly raw, and I relax upon the wall, collapsing in a gratifying fit of ecstasy and reprieve.

My eyes close again, and I rest my willowy hands upon the graceful and slight curve of the small of his back, and pull him closer into me, his traveling hands feathering the golden hairs at the nape of my neck.

I'm kissing him_. I'm_ kissing _him_. I'm _kissing_ h--Fuck it!

Our dewy, hot lips work wordlessly, gratifyingly sweet. So different from kissing all of those girls, nothing but cherry flavored liquid plastic and bitter blue gum.

A sheer, mild breeze ripples dreamily between my temples.

I sense a light thump upon my shoulder blade, and feel him smile into the kiss.

"A-ah...Breathe...Ken..?"

Smoldering veins of thunder diffuse within my blood. He tugs his lips away steadily, his airy breaths slight upon my lips.

...it felt like liberation to me.

His sparkling, clear blue eyes gaze up at me with uncertainty and obvious bliss, and he bites his swollen, tender pink lip apprehensively, before breaking out into an innocent smile.

"Y-You forgot your lunch, K-Kenny."

He presses up against me, standing on the tips of his candy red converse. I bring my head down closer to his. Our lips meet again in a subtle, syrupy kiss. I love the chastity, resolve and blue eyes that is Butters.

He's smiling adorably up at me now, and we both turn our faces up to the graying heavens, watching as the once bleak and austere silence recedes, allowing the diluted winter daylight to hum along our warmed skin.

One more doting kiss to my temple confirms that everything'll be okay.

"Kenny, your h-hair smells l-like strawberry shampoo."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

(At Kenny's apartment, 10:00 p.m, same day, after school )

We're both in my room, and he's listening intently as I read him my verbose exam essay.

"Bathing seems like an exercise in futility, like making my bed or brushing my teeth or combing my hair. Clean the slate, and then lit get despoiled once more. Wipe it down, and wait for more filth. This inevitable pattern of progress and regress, which is really what life is all about, is too irrational for me to continue."

Butters looks up at me with much interest and curiosity, his head cocked to the side, blonde hair tousled and feathered adorably.

He's wearing one of my loose-fitting black t-shirts and boxers with ankle socks, and sitting cross-legged upon my bed.

"No more showers?"

I nod appropriately, and watch as he glances down momentarily, fingering the hem of my shirt, and looking back up at me inquiringly.

"N-No more strawberry shampoo?"

I suddenly feel almost...guilty. I sigh idly, and set my wordy exam paper on the desk beside me, and traipse across the room to the bed. I reach across the bed, and he sits up on his knees.

My lips brush affectionately across his cheek, his temple, and his forehead, and I make a satisfying, wet, smacking sound that makes him giggle.

The moment in The Bell Jar (we read it in class) when Esther Greenwood realizes after thirty days in the same black turtleneck that she never wants to wash her hair again, that the repeated necessity of the act is too much trouble, that she wants to do it once and be done with it, seems like the book's true epiphany. You know you've completely descended into madness when the matter of shampoo has ascended to philosophical heights. So as far as I'm concerned, I'll keep on bathing, thank you.

He regains his composure and gazes up at me intently, before mouthing a soft, quiet 'oh'.

"You don't like my exam?" I state tactlessly, and I cradle his face in my hands. He tries to shake his head, and I laugh quietly, despite trying to come off as upset.

Good thing he's so...oblivious to everything.

"Kenny? I-I'm sorry, I liked y-your exam, p-promise..." the latter of his explanation fades, and he notices the obvious, unrestrained lust swimming freely in my blue eyes.

I take his hand and lead him teasingly to the bathroom, casting a devious smirk behind my shoulder.

"B-but, Kenny, I already t-took a shower..."

I sit him down on the toilet, and stand over waiting water in the tub.

I nodded distractedly, dipping my hand into the bath, before turning to him, teasing smirk still in place.

I turned my back to him, and pulled my tight black t-shirt over my head. I began to naughtily undo the button of my jeans, quite aware of the blue eyes dancing across my form.

I almost laugh out loud when I spot the blush on his face, the light sprinkling of freckles shifting upon his pixie nose as he scrunches it, as though trying desperately to _not_ be turned on.

I'm down to my boxers, now.

I watch amusedly as he tries to stifle a squeal, closing his eyes, his hand held over his mouth tightly.

SPLASH!!!!

I dove straight into the bath, boxers still on, soaking his blonde locks until he resembled an adorable, scruffy golden puppy.

He stares at me pointedly through his soppy blonde bangs, and pouts cutely, before walking over to me, and kneeling beside the tub.

I settled into the mild bath, delighting in the pleasurable warmth. Frothy, gloss topped hills floated in silence atop the water's surface. I bite at my lip, trying desperately to will myself to stop smiling like a maniac.

"Kenny! You're still w-wearing your b-boxers, ya know! Are you okay?" His blue eyes soften with concern, but I'm having too much fun with this to feel the guilt. He places his hand upon my brow, pushing my blonde locks back from my forehead, and I take my opportunity.

I take him under his arms, and pull him in over me, creating a balmy, mini tide to swell above our heads, and seep over the smooth porcelain walls of the tub.

He squeals, and it reminds me of Tweek the way his eyes are closed and he's buried in my chest like that.

He looks up at me, his brilliant, sugar-blue eyes glittering sublimely against the stark white of the bleak bathroom tile. I reach behind me and take the bottle of candy red strawberry shampoo in my hand, and squeeze a generous amount of it in a gummy pile atop his blonde head.

His blue eyes widen, and I liberate a blissful laugh and watch as it floats above us and into the velvety, misty air of the bathroom.

We lay there in the tub, clement waves lapping at the warmed skin of our legs tangled together, sticky with strawberry shampoo, and pleasantly soaked, clothes and all.

"There'll still be strawberry shampoo," I assure him, before closing my eyes and placing a loving kiss to his forehead. He breaks out into a sleepy smile, and my heart swells.

Yeah, everything'll be fine.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Bubbly: How was that???!!! Review!! OH, for jumpinPoptart's question, in America, freshman are generally 14 to 15 years old. I'm 14, and I'll be 15 on April 18th as of next year!!! sorry! But I need to establish a 'healthy relationship' between Kenny and Butters, first, kay!? I need your reviews if I am to continue!!! clickit clickit!

REVIEW!!! We are Signing out!!!!


	6. Not Made For This

Bubbly: Short Chapter!! Sorry for the last, horrible!!!! chapter!!! but, this one is a little...off! The fluff ends!! Remember, this is my first SP fic! so go easy on me!!! only one way to find out! oh well, here we go!!!

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter 6: Not Made For This

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

_There were tears in his eyes, glittering sublimely against the supple contour of his cheek. He locked his disturbing blue gaze upon me, an abrupt audacity possessing the previously distressed boy. "You're disgusting," he whispered faintly, jadedly, as though the hate in his eyes was all he could offer. He glanced briefly out at the wintry horizon, a trembling thread of silver beneath the moon's smoldering white ardor. _

_It was sickeningly apparent then how much I wanted him. My heart seemed to collapse in on itself, and I felt the revolting taste of bile. I tugged his chin upwards, and kissed him carefully, tactfully, intent on making him want me again. My frustration intensified as he did not respond. I kissed him roughly, bruising his swollen lips. They gave away pathetically, and my chest began to heave violently with pitiful breaths. "What the fuck? What the fuck do you mean!?" I moaned, and I felt him stand beside me. "What's wrong?" He cast a cordial gaze upon me; poised and unyielding, void of that coveted intimacy I had lusted after for all of my life. "What's wrong?" The words spilled from his mouth and onto the breeze, unrestrained and hysterical. _

_He ambled away, hands brought up to his mouth, his blue eyes pained and disoriented. I had hurt the one who seemed to understand me. "What's wrong?" My vision blurred, and the image of those luminous blue eyes collided painfully with the base of my skull. _

The ascetic silence bit out at my pulsating temples, and the muted moonlight dripped into my eyes. I lay there in bed, harsh white linen smoothing over damp, unstable legs. I ran my fingers through my blonde mane resignedly, my mind wandering back to the dream that I had just awoken from.

"What's wrong?" I glanced up to meet the worried gaze of Butters. The blonde studied my pale face concernedly, and I lay there, a depressive of the catatonic kind, watching apathetically as he tucked the icy sheets around my trembling body.

"Just a dream, dude..." I choked out, feeling the words grate painfully against the raw skin of my throat.

He cast another doubtful glance my way, before smiling benignly. "O-Okay, Kenny..."

He rested his disheveled blonde head upon my chest and smoothed his thumb over my cold hand, before muttering a quiet 'good night'.

I'm not made for this.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Now, that was a t-terrible thing ta do, Mr. Tugboat!"

Ha. Early morning cartoons are _always _funny. I can't really feel nostalgic right now. Nothing good about my home to possibly remember.

My gaze coasted along the figure in front of me. Butters sat upon his knees at the foot of the bed, the dusty daylight rinsing his blonde locks in watery gold. His sparkling, clear blue eyes scanned the television screen with devoted attention.

His legs shifted beneath him distractedly, and his lips parted and stirred in a slight murmur.

"You're cute, Butters." I smirk in sheer amusement at the lack of a response. Maybe I'll wait until the commercial break. The last of the flickering pictures pass along the screen, and I cast my gaze to the wall behind me, smirking at the huge fuckin' hole my headboard has created there from past _activities. _

I wonder if Butters has even _noticed_ it.

I turn my attention back to the blonde occupying my bed. "Butters?" No response. Oh, well. I'm an opportunist. I sit up on my knees and scoot over to him, crouching down like some golden cat. I allow my lips to grace the exposed flesh of his neck, before dipping my canines gently into the tender skin. He lets out a series of mewls, and my tongue sails along the smoldering and flushed skin.

"K-Kenny...Tugboat...Uhh..." I laugh quietly into his shoulder, subdued laughter elevating to a hysterical snort.

He turns to smile at me through lidded eyes, clouded with a childlike..._lust? _

I suddenly feel aggravated with myself, for letting myself become intimate with some...brat. I then feel callous and harsh because of my last thought. What the fuck!?

What is he doing here? What are _we _doing? This can't be happening--this thing, this fuckin' mix-up I thought was love. The truth is, I'm just some guy who fucks mindlessly, blissfully, like some Stepford Wife, and he's...he's perfect. He's innocent, and I've corrupted and tainted all the things I loved about him. Everything I wasn't.

He leans forward, those blue eyes shut, drowning me in solitude. I need those eyes, I need that smile. His lips meet mine, a subtle, feathery touch. There's no sentiment in that kiss. Not on my part.

Does it still feel right? I don't really know, right now.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Butters leaned up against the back of the couch, watching me with mild interest as he ate his lunch of Spagettio's straight from the can. He donned a loose, bright orange t-shirt and tight (emo style!) jeans, and his usual red Converse All-Stars.

He smelled of honey and vanilla, and his glorious blue eyes regarded me with an air of satisfaction. He's a kid. A blue eyed, blonde haired, adorably freckle nosed kid. I think I'll call him Annie, today. Don't ask. I'm an enigma. And it kinda...suits him, I guess. I glance behind me, and give him a sleepy smile, before continuing to wash the dishes.

"Hey, Annie," I call, watching amusedly as his nose scrunches in confusion. "Your parents should be home tomorrow, right?" He dismisses the new name he's been given, and he answers: "Y-Yeah...".

I regard the disappointment in his voice as home-sickness.

"Annie, Annie, Annie," I croon teasingly, advancing across the floor to where he stands in the living room. He pouts when I take his spoon of pasta (A/N: is it really pasta?) into my mouth.

I feign hunger, running my fingers over his sides, and he turns away from me with a jerk and small smile.

There's a small vibration in my pants, and I thankfully realize that it's just my cell. I take it out and study the number on the screen. My mind draws a momentary blank, and I recognize that it's Bebe.

I flip open the phone and answer the call, breathing out a casual 'hey'. The synthetic sweetness of her voice coats me in bubble gum flavored liquid plastic and the scent of cheap perfume (it literally _was _toilet water), and I almost begin to choke into the speaker.

"Kenny?" She asked sweetly. I regained my composure and straightened my back. "Um, hey." There's a short pause on the other line, and I imagine her winding a golden lock of hair around her pinky finger.

"So," she drawls suggestively, "I thought maybe we could have a little _fun_ this weekend. I'm free. And we had _so_ much fun last time..." I hear a harsh giggle, and a breathless sigh.

I cast an anxious glance at Butters, who is now laying across the couch, studying the Spagettio can.

I walk a few feet towards the kitchen and rest up against the wall, my blue gaze sailing across the glossy wooden floors. A playful smirk graces my lips. "When?" I almost wince at the harsh, conspiring tone of my voice. Almost. But I _need_ this. A woman. Curves, tits, the lips...I need it right now.

"I'll see you tonight. At my house. Around eight, yeah?" I nod, and breathe out an agreement, before flipping my cell shut.

I don't think it's working. Strawberry shampoo, sugar cookies, home made lunches...It has to stop.

I'm not made for this.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Bubby: Sorry for the short chappy! oh, and don't hate kenny! but, thanks for the constructive criticism! and sorry about the diabetes inducing, COMPLETELY OOC chapter 5! I just... I couldn't help it!! Gaaah!

can you guys kind of be ... harsh a little? be critics!!! but don't make me cry!! I need to get the characters down PAT!! who's pat? we don't know!!! REVIEW!!!


	7. It was a good day

Bubbly: sorry, it's a short one this time! short update! last chapter, Kenny was scheduled to meet Bebe at 8 for some 'fun'. this takes place afterwards! just makin' sure you know!!

I'm out!!!

Disclaimer: Wonder bread...

-------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 7: It was a good day...

--------------------------------------------------------------

It's four o'clock in the morning, and the image of dour blue eyes laces its way into my disquieting thoughts. The clement beads of sweat sail upon my frozen skin, and I swear that I could just _feel _the salt of it cake onto my crestfallen form. I cast a knotted glance at my female counterpart, laying in bed beside me, sky blue bed sheets pooled haphazardly about my exposed hips.

The sex was good. It was great. We could both fuck, to say the least. I rested my head about my arms, and I turned my head slightly to consider the girl who lay beside me.

Slutty, blonde, pretty dumb. We're both whores, too. My features contort childishly, and I feel the frown grace my lips. I suddenly feel an abrupt resentment towards Bebe, as if it was truly her fault. The full impact of what I had just done began to saturate my surface, and I immediately felt guilt.

I had _cheated _on Butters. But were we really together?

Butters... I felt his sweet dulcet tones spilling over my taut gray skin, his luminous blue eyes regarding me with candid affection. I don't know what I'd do if he left. I never realized how close he was to me. "It was a good day..." I sing the lyrics off key and out of tune, but do I really give fuck?

These one night stands always left me questioning the world, my current situation, how I got there, in bed with a complete stranger, and sometimes not, but most importantly, if it was love that had led me there.

I always knew the answer before I had asked.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I spare a glance at the digital clock that rests upon Bebe's dresser. The violent red forms burn into my skull, I'm so fuckin' tired. "Only 4:18 A.M ?" I murmur to myself absentmindedly, my voice subdued and stifled as I try to pull on my black track jacket. My jeans are slung low upon my hips, and I work to zip them up.

I sweep a few tousled blonde bangs from my somnolent gaze, lacing up my dingy converses before traipsing lightly through the bedroom door.

I wonder why I never took the night shift at work. I never can get to sleep, anyways.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm walking down the sidewalk towards my apartment, and everything is motionless in the blistering blue streetlight, though the sky is still that same velvety black, and the monotonous drone of traffic lies crestfallen upon the pavement.

My breaths tremble briefly upon the thin air before dispersing before my eyes, lost in the mind-numbing atmosphere of this mountain town. South Park.

I take another long drag upon the cigar I had 'borrowed' from Bebe's father, and my muscles relax as my gaze travels alongside the thick smoke ring floating out in front of me.

Just two days before, I had been another person. The kind of guy who asks for non-dairy creamer, and calls his wife 'darling' or 'honeydew' or something equally...gay. I had been spitting out sappy one liners like my life depended on it, just to make Butters smile.

But, now...I was the same dejected derelict, the happy drunk, the slut. "It was a good day..." I try my luck again at singing the song right, and I fail just like before.

Stan had Kyle. Craig had Tweek. I had Butters. But I don't think he had me, yet. I had cheated, and we hadn't even been officially together. Two days of sickeningly satisfying affection, and I had already fucked it up for just 4 hours of rough, dirty, sweaty sex, and a damp cigar. Damn my luck.

I eye my apartment building resignedly, and sigh, as I cast the cigar from my lips and onto the street.

"It's now or never." Never, is the option I choose.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's five o'clock in the morning, and I'm still standing at my apartment's door, mentally debating whether or not I should open it just yet. The sound of my keys scraping together grates against my nerves, like a ball of tinfoil being ground against my spinal cord. Just...annoying.

I open the door, and drag my feet against the carpet, until I'm looking over the side of the couch. Butters lies there, his blonde hair disheveled, his nose red, his eyelashes damp with tears. He had been...crying?

But why? My gaze searched the room franticly, thinking of just what he could possibly have been upset about.

"Oh shit--" I begin to massage my temples with the fingertips of my deadening hands, and a broken sigh passes my lips.

I didn't tell him I wouldn't be home, today.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bubbly: ERrrr!!! sorry for the short chappy. I know, I know, it took pretty long! but, I don't have enough reviews!!! it makes me think this story sux!!

REVIEW!!!!REVIEW!!!!REVIEW!!!!REVIEW!!!!REVIEW!!!!REVIEW!!!!REVIEW!!!!

I'm out!!!!


	8. The ever cliche blowjob

Bubbly: Short chappy, again!! sorry! i just need reviews!!! Gawd!! GAWD!!! don't worry, you'll be seeing more of stanxkyle and craigxtweek in the next chapter!! just review, even if just to say 'I read it' and i'll be content!! is it really that hard!!???

Disclaimer: I thought about saying it this time.

--------------------------------------------------

Chapter 8: The ever cliché blowjob.

---------------------------------------------------

Sometimes I think that I was forced to withdraw into depression because it was the only rightful protest I could throw in the face of a world that said it was all right for people to come and go as they please, that there were simply no real obligations left.

Certainly deceit and duplicity in both romantic and political relationships were nothing new, but at one time, I'm sure, it was nasty, callous, and harsh to hurt someone. Now it's just the way things go, part of the growth process. Really nothing is surprising. My parents had a child that they didn't have too much trouble walking away from; it seems only natural that so many of us could have our own demons which we could sacrifice so easily.

After a while, meaning and implication detach themselves from everything. If one can be a parent and assume no obligations, it follows that one can be a boyfriend and do nothing at all. Hence, my poor ass excuse behind my cheating on Butters.

There's an acrid taste in my throat, saturating my tongue and sedating my tonsils. I think it might be guilt, but I'm not quite sure.

My legs shift restlessly, and I find myself staring at him again, there, curled up into the couch, all honor and humanity.

How his parents could ever raise a hand at his expense, I never would understand. But now, I felt low. Because I had hurt him, let him down, I was shit.

I lay my chin back upon the armrest, and watch the snow through that huge window of ours. I know he loved it the first time he saw it, because "W-Well, y-you could just see everythin' so n-nice, Kenny."

It's all concentrated white and iced up daylight, but it's unusually satisfying. I snort in amusement. "I haven't even gotten an hour's worth of sleep, yet." I whisper distractedly, straining my tired eyes against the intense white world.

Pretty soon you can add friend, acquaintance, fuck buddy, coworker, and just about anyone else to the long list of people who seem to be a part of your life, though there is no code of conduct that they must adhere to.

Pretty soon, it seems unreasonable to be bothered or outraged by much of anything, because, well, what did you expect? In a world where the core social unit--the family--is so dispensable, how much can anything else mean?

I wish I was wrong. I wanna go to sleep.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There's a slight tapping sensation against my left thigh, and I crane my neck to see Butters swatting lightly at me with the morning newspaper.

"Gee, when d-do ya think you're gonna get up, K-Kenny? It's eight o'clock..." That same stubborn expression is set firmly upon his features, and I smile back up at him when our gazes meet. The smile is lopsided, but genuine, and relief fleets across my brow when his face lights up.

"C'mon, and g-get dressed, it's too cold ta walk ta school, today."

"You wanna take the car today, dude? You're usually the one to _insist_ that we walk through this damn weather." He smiles at me, elation carved clearly onto his features. "O-Only if you let me listen to Enya, o-kay?"

I smirk in amusement and nod, and take my sweet time in watching his ass as he retreats into the kitchen.

"Enya, huh?" I mutter to myself amusedly, standing up. I drag my feet across the beige carpet towards the bathroom, bringing my fingers to my matted blonde mane, sighing to myself.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

16 minutes later, I'm out of the shower and dressed, walking towards the living room while toweling my hair dry. As I seat myself on the loveseat, Butters appears immediately at my side, hands on his hips, his lower lip jutting out in a definite pout.

"Why, with that wet head of y-yours, you'll h-harden like ice outside, mister." He reprimands lightly. I almost moan at the context of that sentence, and mentally slap myself, reminding myself how _inappropriate_ that sounded.

I feel 'little Ken' go a little hard, and stand up awkwardly, before placing a chaste kiss to the blonde's forehead and heading into the bedroom to get my book bag.

"Hey, dude, do ya think you could start up the car? The keys are on the coffee table next to the textbooks." I holler in the direction of the living room.

I wait for an answer, my fingers fumbling with the zippers on my bag. I turn around after a slight pause, and cock my head slightly, turning around on all fours and crawling down the hallway.

As I peer around the corner of the wall, a shadow spills into view, and Butters is suddenly towering above me.

"Kenny..." Holy shit, where did his stutter go? Where the FUCK did his stutter just go!?

I inch back a little, and raise up on my knees, smiling sheepishly before choking out lamely: "Did ya find 'em?"

Did he find out? Did Bebe call? Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Less than five minutes later, I find myself pressed against the bedroom door, hot and sticky, panting as I received the blowjob of my life. How the hell is he so good at this? Better than Bebe!

His hot, gummy pink tongue suckles and laps slowly against me, and his blonde head bobs lightly, quickly. By the time I've sputtered out all of the incoherent ramblings my mind has composed, he's taken me to heaven and back.

He pulls away from me, a heartrending smile gracing his lips. There's desolation in his eyes, and his face is red. Humiliation stains his features.

He meets my gaze as he stands slowly, and leans forward to place a chaste, devoted kiss to my brow.

"Was I...?" He starts cautiously. I sigh repentantly and rest against him, bringing my arms around his hips. I'm _still_ out of breath. "I love you, dude." Could I even say his name?

He sighs wretchedly against me, burrowing his head into the crook of my neck.

We're both aware of what I had done. I wanted to commit this to memory. I wanted to discipline myself. But that wasn't what he wanted. He knew I had cheated. He already fucking knew.

What the fuck had I just let him do? The guilt began to come back full force, and I felt my heart begin to splinter and collapse within my chest. I groan inwardly, my eyes slipping shut.

That was so cliché. Cliché's hurt.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bubbly: Sorry for the tiny lime!! Yes, it was Butter's first time doing something of 'that nature'. My boyfriend was feeding my goldfish , and I had been practically blushing and gushing blood from my nose as I wrote that part!! Godd!!! please review!! it makes me feel nice. and loved!!!


	9. Author's Note

Bubbly: Sorry, not a chapter, just an annoying author's note. I just wanted to ask... I'm thinking whether I should really continue this story, or just givin' up! I like the idea, and writing the chapters, but I don't know where I'm going with it. I just wanted to ask, please, if you, the readers, could maybe review, and include whether I should add some new pairings, add more details, add a chapter with Butter's POV maybe, and if you want to see more StanxKyle and CraigxTweek?!! well, thanks... the new chapter will be up in about a week.

Just, thanks again, the readers!! I'm out!!


	10. Persecution

Bubbly: Hello!!! Yes, i've been busy, goddamnit!!! You know, Cornell notes are a bitch!! Seriouslay!!! Gaawwwddd!! On with the story!!! (turns VCR's Bratcore on ipod full volume) Let's rock this bitch!!!!!!!

Disclaimer: I do not...own it?

Chapter 10: Persecution

-------------------------------------------------------------------

When I was a kid, it was like this: I'd be lying helpless in my room, my dad was another peripatetic, belligerent drunkard, and my mom would be lying idle and agitated on the couth, there was nothing we could do to make each other feel better, and the whole house seemed to be stuck in some wretched detente. And I would say to myself **'_I won't end up this way._' **Does that make any sense? Is it possible that I didn't collapse, become incapacitated, a malfunctioning depressive of the catatonic kind, because my thoughts about my own family wouldn't let me?

I mean, when people just flat out fall apart, when they get into the kind of state where they think they're talking to angels and they sleep barefoot in the park in the middle of winter, it's not as if they got permission to be that way. They are that way because they can't help it. Not saying that my mom was _disturbed, _but the sheer _distance _between us just made me feel...lonely. Though, had I been far enough gone, I'd have gone there too. Right? Maybe. Maybe not. The measure of our consciousness, the touchstone for sanity in this fucked up town, is our level of output, our attention to responsibility, our ability to plain and simple _keep it together. _

If you're still at the point when you're even just barely going through the motions--showing up at work, paying the bills--you are still okay or okay enough. A desire not to acknowledge the inborn depression in ourselves or those close to us--better known these days as 'denial', is such a concentrated urge that plenty of people prefer to think that until you are speaking in tongues, eating cake mix and collecting bottle tops, you don't have a problem. But this does not take into account the other factors, the existence of guilt, of a disciplined sense of right and wrong, or in my case, an understanding of the people around me--which placed definite limits on how much rope I had to hang myself.

My mom and I had switched roles so often--I helped her with her binge drinking, soaked her cigarettes in water so that she couldn't smoke, or told her, as she sat bawling in the kitchen because she had just lost a job and was scared we'd be broke, that I was sure everything would be all right--and I was afraid to abandon the parental responsibility I felt for her. She was just there. She wasn't a sympathetic person, someone who watched me at my soccer games, took me school everyday. _She was just there. _And I knew never to expect any more than that.

I knew the limits of the people who were close to me, and in my worst downs, I was ever more attuned to them. Depression gave me extreme perspicacity; rather than skin, it was as if I had only fine gauze bandages to hold in the manic-depressive episodes that accumulated over the years. Insanity. Did you have to survive Vietnam, or did it take poverty, chemical dependency, severe mental illness, and long years in state institutions for this to happen? Or maybe a near death? I would never know.

I spare a glance at the blonde next to me, and I wonder how the years of abuse had really affected him. Had he always been so cheerful, so sympathetic and well-mannered? Sometimes, I think no matter what situation he could have been placed in, he would always be just that. Himself. Butters.

I'm jealous of that, I know, and it's sick. Two blonde, blue eyed boys go into a world in the same district of hell (South Park) , and come out completely different from the other. Funny.

We're both resting against the hood of my car, eating m&m's, the deadened spark of sunlight on metal lying petulantly upon the concrete.

He drums his fingertips lightly against my thigh, and turns to give me a thoughtful smile, his watery blue eyes brilliant in the diluted, winter sunlight. His dusty golden hair is tousled in a childlike way, and his cheeks are ruddy and pink.

He's the picture of innocence, in a very literal sense of the phrase. I don't know if it's love or just a melancholic harmony between the two of us, but I hope it's love. I pray to the fuckin' heavens that it's love. He's someone I'd enjoy loving, I think. And he deserves it.

"..." I smile down at him, and shift a bit, so he's laying up against me, his palms coasting questioningly along the downy blue material of my hoodie. The light dusting of freckles upon the bridge of his nose shifts and flickers as he scrunches his nose in delight. _Has he already forgotten what I had done? _

I hear footsteps, and raise my fleeting bottle blue gaze to the source of the noise. Tweek approaches us, slight tremors pulsing faintly beneath his pale skin, his grassy, sea green eyes regarding us with amusement.

"H-hey, guys, eerrggh...!" We both turn to greet the spastic blonde, Butters already determinedly showering m&m's into his quaking palms.

"There ya go." Butters beams proudly, and I stifle my slight laughter upon seeing the apprehension displayed undoubtedly on Tweek's face. He was quite the germaphobe. I turn my attention from the two squabbling blondes and my gaze settles upon the arrival of Craig.

"Yo," I greet offhandedly, giving him a shit eating grin. "McCormick," he drawls out in that same, nasally intonation of his, giving me an pleased smirk.

"Ah," he leans up against the hood of my car, resting his palms against the back of his head, casting a haughty, though sociable, glance my way. "I love blondes..." We both turn to watch Butters and Tweek, and we both can't help but laugh at the sight.

Tweek's eyes are closed, and his back is pressed up against the school building, looking as though he might attempt to climb it that way, while Butters stutters (haha) on about the pros, and cons of eating and sharing m&m's, further traumatizing the already disturbed blonde.

"S-See, Tweek? You're favorite color is b-blue! You can have all the blue ones, if ya want..."

"Gaah!! O-Okay!!" The emerald eyed blonde's convulsions died a bit, his body pulsing in slight vibrations, as he shyly accepted the minor luxury.

I hear more footsteps. Butters casts his bubbly, soda blue gaze to the source of the new sound.

It happened all too slowly.

The once dogged, childlike look on Butters' face congealed silently, crystallizing wordlessly into a distant, melancholic expression, a low-spirited sigh dying upon his lips.

A serrated, harsh shadow is cast upon the cold cement, and me, Craig, and Tweek all look up, expecting Stan and Kyle.

_'Shit'._

Bebe stands there complacently, an objectionable expression of satisfaction caked onto her face along with all her makeup. Her supple, cherry pink lips sparkled with a gummy layer of freshly applied gloss, and her arctic, sapphire blue eyes stood out hauntingly against her lightly tanned profile. That body was driving me _mad_..."_Hi, _Kenny..." She sauntered forward, until she was within inches of my neck, her breath ghosting faintly along my jaw, which had been locked in an incorrigible trepidation.

"Bebe," I ground out evenly, my strained muscles pulsing sadistically to the rhythm of my unexpectedly accelerated heart rate. _'She's getting to me, dammit. Why the fuck is this self-centered bitch persecuting me like this?' _

"Yes, Kenny..?" She's finding so much satisfaction in this, that I want to wretch.

And in the heat of this 'moment', out of the corner of my eye, I see Butters looking unbearably distraught, heartache staining his features, his eyes now the color of the ascetic winter skies.

"Fuck you, Bebe..." I mutter deliberately, barely registering what I was about to do.

I turn towards him, as I feel an almost wretched ache inciting irritably within my throat.

"I love you, Butters... Dude, I can't stop fuckin' thinking about you! Please...," my voice died down to a harsh whisper, "don't leave me."

I feel...tears? Tears. I'm fuckin' _crying, _and he notices it.

He's walking towards me now, and all I know is that..._I do love him. So fucking much. _

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

We're both lying panting in the back seat of my car, everyone already in class, studying each other heatedly, pent up lust flashing overtly in Butter's brilliant, clear blue eyes. His lips meet mine in an angry kiss, my tongue delving into that moist, wet cavern, eliciting a sultry moan from the blonde pinned below me.

My hips grind up impatiently against his in unrestrained sexual tension, and he bucks up against me, his lusty whining driving me _crazy. _My lips feel almost bruised, but we both continue to work wordlessly, harmoniously.

"B-Butters," I choke out awkwardly, "I-," another turbulently sweet kiss, "...l-love you..."

I pull away momentarily, my features still stained with the evident lust and...something more. My expression had softened, and I found myself wanting to be even closer to him. His brow shimmered with a light sweat.

He gazed up at me with those glorious soda blue eyes, a happy smile gracing his fine features. "You love me?" I nodded eagerly, a peaceful, dopey grin rippling across my face. I feel those same tears begin to well up in my eyes.

He leaned up and placed a doting kiss to my brow, my temple, the bridge of my nose. "Don't c-cry, Kenny. I love you, too."

**TBC...!!!!**

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

bUbBLy: AWW!!! don't worry, the lovin' doesn't stop here!! look forward to a hot, sexy, naughty, fluff chapter coming up!! OH, and stan and kyle also share a hot scene! the perverted kenny will finally make his appearance, also!!!! bring on the humor!! yay!! no more horrid angst!!!!

Spencer: _you_ think she's hyper? I'm her FIRST girlfriend. Deal with that!!

bUbBLy: but, she loves me. so don't mind her! I'm out!!!


	11. Lovers of The Color Orange

BUbbly: AAAAAAAAHHHH!!! Warning: May contain a 'scene'!!! Oh,well, read and find out! thank you so much for the reviews!!! Read it! Read it!!

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or anything else. Dude, seriously, I don't own a house. I'm currently living friend-to-friend! This is a library comp! Hehe!! I'm seriously almost as poor as Kenny! 'cept I eat cold pizza and pineapples instead of frozen waffles! Yay, high school class of 2010!!!!!

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter: Lovers of the Color Orange

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The car in front of them was going _so fucking slow. _Butters sighed meditatively. Kenny growled in sheer annoyance, his fingers agitatedly thumping at the car horn. "Get out of the--" he bit his lip and swerved out of his lane abruptly, causing Butters to let out a startled yelp from his seat, "way!" He regained his composure and smirked haughtily in triumph as he very nonchalantly flipped off the driver in his rear view mirror, eliciting an amused giggle from the other blonde in the passenger's seat. He turned towards his main squeeze, casting him an affectionate expression. "You like that, huh?" Kenny regarded him thoughtfully, a devoted smile finding his lips.

_'This night...all of it...is all about him.' _

A tiny blush bloomed over Butter's face, and he cast his gaze to the snowflakes crystallizing silently against the iced up glass of the car window. A woman's honeyed voice hummed out faintly from the car's speakers, spilling into the small space, warming the air. Butters traced out a distorted heart upon the glass, a dopey smile gracing his lips. Everything just...fell into it's rightful place.

Kenny shifted comfortably in his car seat, turning his head slightly to glance at Butters. The kid was just too cute. Almost...sterile. '_I don't want anything to interrupt this...' _

Kenny's cell promptly began to ring. _'Shit.' _

The brooding expression on Kenny's face was immediately replaced with one of mild irritation.

"Hello?" Kenny was now barking away animatedly on his cell, to whom, Butters had recognized as Cartman.

He sighed readily, casting a hopeful glance at the blonde looking apathetically out towards the road He felt the anxiety saturate his system, and closed his eyes, breathing arduously as the incorrigible tension incited within his chest.

"No, I don't want it, _lardass_!"

A genial stillness flooded the vicinity of the vehicle, and Butters could feel as his face flushed in blatant inexperience.

He didn't even notice when Kenny hung up.

_'Gee, I hope he doesn't think I'm yellow if maybe...I back out? No! I want this. I want **him**.'_

Kenny could only smile at the dogged expression set so deliberately upon Butters' face.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There they stood awkwardly, in the doorway of Kenny's apartment, trying to look anywhere but at each other. They seemed to be failing miserably.

Kenny searched those brilliant, clear, soda blue eyes, his lips parting in hope. "Are you sure you want to be here?" He asked steadily, trying desperately to keep his distance. Butters let out a series of vigorous nods, educing a quiet laugh from the taller boy.

Kenny began to take his coat, keeping a steady eye contact, when Butters caught his hand. He paused distractedly, trying to make sense of the broken mantra resonating all around him.

_'What are we doing?' _

He let out a quivering breath, before pulling himself against the other blonde in an avid fit.

Their lips molded together briefly, and they pulled away. Their lips crashed together again and again, in perfect harmony; warm, pliable, velvety kisses and light touches.

He ground his hips against the boy in lustful frustration, a low whine forming in his throat.

_"_Mm--ah, Butters--do you--wanna go--m-my room?" He managed to choke out, suckling upon the younger boy's bottom lip affectionately.

"Shit!" He shot his arms out behind him, catching onto the doorknob to the bedroom door that Butters had pressed him into. Butters teeth caught against his lip, his moan spilling into Kenny's mouth.

The heat was suffocating. It seared their skin, singed their lashes, it made them sweat. Kenny groped the doorknob futilely, a frustrated grunt erupting from his throat, before the door finally gave way.

They both fell back onto the almost glacial white bed linen, Butters' back pressing into the mattress. Kenny's lips met with supple skin, his smoldering tongue leaving fiery trails along the submissive's collar bone. Butters arched his back willingly, bucking his hips again in anticipation.

"Ah...K-Kenny...l-love you..." Kenny smiled blissfully against that powder soft skin, breathing deeply as he pinned the boy's hands above his head with one of his own. _'I need him to be comfortable with me. I need him to feel okay.' _

He pulled away to admire his work, before sparing a doting glance at the blonde panting below him. "Butters...you wanna do this?" He asked quietly, his blue gaze coasting over the other's expression, looking for a hint of emotion behind the obvious lust.

"Y-Yes...Please, Kenny. Please..." Kenny didn't need any further words.

Kenny tugged Butters' shirt up his torso, leaving sloppy kisses along his skin. He blew a loud raspberry against the boy's flesh, forcing out a loud giggle.

"Kenny, be serious!" Butters whined in between delighted squeals, gaining a smile from the older boy. He nodded, and continued to sail his tongue along the exposed ribbon of flesh, eliciting sultry purrs from his 'victim'.

He pitched the offending garment (a.k.a shirt) to the beige carpet below, allowing his tongue to loiter upon Butters' neckline.

"A-ah..." He put his remaining hand to work, expert fingers unfastening the boy's button and fly with practiced ability. He tugged them away, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of neon orange boxers. _'He likes orange, too? Now I **know** we're soul mates.' _

He tugged both articles of clothing down at once, casting a quick glance at Butters' face, noticing the stain of embarrassment expressed there. He hummed against the blonde's skin understandingly, his other hand coasting along his sides.

He sat up upon his knees, and began to unfasten his own pants, slowly, alluringly, smirking in humorous pride. The belt, the fly, those jeans slung so low along his hips...

"Kenny..." Butters' whined eagerly, bucking his hips readily. "Nuh uh, you have to wait, love." Kenny drawled out in a mock British accent.

Butters reached out quickly, his fingers grabbing at the hem of the boxers, tugging them down and tossing them away to the floor in one fluid motion.

"You want me that bad, huh?"

"Ken-ny!"

Kenny smiled playfully, finally straddling the unclothed boy. His eyes sailed admirably along the very feminine, demure figure before him, the boy's struggle bringing an amused smile to his face.

"Are you ready?" He asked quietly, and once again got an anxious nod for a reply.

He leaned over the tempting form pinned below him, retrieving a bottle of (sex jelly!!!) from the dresser drawer. He coated himself and his fingers expertly, positioning himself before Butters.

A sharp intake of breath, and all of a sudden- a soft, gratified whine.

He inserted two more fingers into the tight, heated entrance, fingertips brushing that delicate spot without miss.

He pulled them out, cleaning each finger one by one with a deft tongue, Butters watching in a drunken fascination. "Here we go..." He swung a trembling leg over his shoulder.

He paused, took a deep breath, and began to slowly, carefully push into Butters' entrance.

"Nnngh...It...it hurts!" Butters whimpered softly, closing his eyes tight.

Kenny furrowed his brows, noticing the pained wince on Butters' face.

He reached out a tentative hand, caressing the quivering boy's cheek soothingly.

"Are you--alright? A-ah..." He moaned aloud, and leaned down to place a loving kiss to his glistening brow. "Just r-relax. It'll hurt more if you tense up like that, kay?" He murmured softly, studying his boyfriend's face with concern.

Butters clutched a loose pillow tightly, and nodded, giving him a slight smile.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He quickened his pace, eliciting delighted moans from the other blonde. Their limbs tangled in a sweaty, sultry braid, and their screams sang out in sync.

Kenny thrust in and out--faster and harder every time, their heated flesh smoothing against the other in fervent ardor.

"A-ah! Kenny!" Butters arched his back, Kenny's heavy panting spilling out onto the blistering atmosphere. They both rode out their climax, soft pants and moans filling the small room.

Kenny slumped against his boyfriend in a tired heap, Butters arms coming out to embrace him, cradling him close.

"I l-love you, Butters. And don't you forget it..."

------------------------------------------------------------------

Bubbly: Gaaaaaaah! Sorry! I know, I'm a total hentai! But, this is my first smut I've ever written! Ever! But, don't worry there will probably be about 2-3 more chapters! And stan and Kyle will finally get it on!! Yay!! READ AND REVIEW, PLEASE!!! I want to get at least 50 reviews! It's my goal, and I'll be so happy if I reach it!!! (promptly drowns in nosebleed)

I'm out!!!


	12. The Alphabet

Bubbly: Hello!! And sorry for the super late update! It's been kinda hard finding a computer to write my fics on, lately, since the school has banned and all other sites in the like (MySpace, whatEgo, blogs, and etc.) and as I've mentioned before, I'm poor as fuck. Well, on to the story, my people!

Just kidding! But, soon!

Not much of a plot in this chapter, just random song, alphabets and old women. Oh, and I think I've changed my mind of much Style in this story. I've decided that it'd be too late to incorporate it into the story this late, and so I've decided to create a very separate, very Style subjective story! Yay!!

I'm also still currently working on 'What the Fuck is Yellow?' I don't think that particular fic was too well received! I mean, I'm just not the author with too many reviewers...(pounds out a pitiable sob) But! You guys could change that!! Please review!!! I neeeeeeeeeds it!!!

I'm out!!!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter: The Alphabet

The skies were a muted, bullet gray, embattled with sad, evicted clouds. Butters and Kenny laid on their sides in a companionable silence, limbs tangled up in a warm braid upon the park's decaying, candy red merry-go-round.

Wintry, gray light spilt from tiny fractures in the puffy sky battalion, humming along the satisfied smile on Kenny's upturned face. 'Me and Butters...We--we actually... Nevermind.' A satisfied sigh passed his lips. He squeezed Butters' petite figure intimately, placing an affectionate, sloppy kiss to his temple, successfully eliciting a squeal from the blonde boy.

"Hey, Butters, do you think...do you think, maybe, we should get a puppy?" He said quietly. Butters' sugary, soda blue eyes widened at the mere suggestion of having his own fluffy, yipping animal for which to love, a.k.a, a puppy, his head bobbing in a series of vigorous nods.

"Really, Kenny? Gee, that would -- that would be great!" Kenny nodded serenely, tilting his tousled blonde head to gaze back up at the sky. Even Kenny had had a puppy, before. Did the emaciated chihuahua that lived in the bushes count? He fed it twice every day and the damned thing just never got fatter! The fuck is that about!? He dismissed his increasingly hysterical thoughts. He wondered just how much of a childhood that he had had.

'He's really never had a puppy before? I wonder...'

"Butters, let me show you something?" Kenny smiled at the confusion expressed in Butters' eyes. "O-okay..."

He sighed, taking his boyfriend's hand into his own, lacing their fingers together and bringing their joined hands up into the sky. Butters' head tilted slightly, him and Kenny gazing up at their entwined fingers.

"A, you're adorable..." Kenny sang out, in tune, his voice sailing along the forsaken playground equipment. He almost laughed out at the embarrassment and confusion written all over Butters' face. "B, you're so beautiful..." Butters nestled closer to Kenny, taking in the pleasant scent that hung about the attractive blonde's shoulders. Soapy, with a hint of cigarette smoke, and vanilla, he noticed.

"C, you're a cutie full of cha-arms! D, you're a darling and--" he paused midway to place a sloppy kiss onto the bridge of the blonde's nose--"E, you're exciting and, and F...! Well, I never did like F, so, yeah!" Torrents of elated giggles spilt out onto the space between them, and Kenny smirked genially, once again bursting into song.

"G, you look freakin' good to me! H, you're so heavenly! I, you're the one I idoli-ize!" He liberated a laugh that he had been holding back for the last three verses, causing Butters to laugh right along with him. "J, we're like Jack and, uh, Jack! Jill doesn't really work with us... K, you're sooo kissable--" another, loyal kiss to his boyfriend's nose--"L, is the love light in your eyes..."

His tone became faint and sentimental as he sang out the rest of the song.

"M, N, O, P, I could go on all day...Q, R, S, T, alphabetically speaking, you're okay..."

He retracted their arms, holding their tangled fingers to his lips, pressing a devoted kiss to his boyfriend's hand. A congenial smile graced his handsome features, and Butters watched with baited breath.

" 'Cuz, baby, U, made my life complete, V, means you're very sweet... W, X, Y, Z..."

He disentangled his fingers and sifted them up through Butters' blonde mane, pressing a velvety kiss to his lips. "It's fun to wander through, the alphabet with you, to tell you what you mean-to-me!"

"Kenny..."

They lay like that for what seemed like hours, until yet another unstructured and spur-of-the-moment symphony erupted from the taller blonde's throat.

"'Cuz I'm hopelessly devoteeed, to yoouuuuuu!!!" He pounded out in a comically unstable falsetto, batting his lashes playfully.

(A/N: Think 'Grease', people!! Kenny is doing his own little impersonation of Sandra Dee!)

"K-Kenny, stoppit!" Butters squeaked out through storms of uncontrollable giggle-fits, burrowing his head into Kenny's shoulder.

"Ooh, Danny...," Kenny purred, his eyes clouding over with lust. Their lips met hungrily.

And in their spontaneous sonata's, psychotic laugh-attacks, and following make-out session, they would never notice the frightened old lady screaming bloody murder as she hurriedly ushered her two grandchildren from the vicinity of the playground.

As it should be.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bubbly: I know, I know!! Super short!! Gaah! It's okay though, the next one will be longer!!!! Yay!!!!!! REVIEW!!!! Oh, and tell me where you would like a Style story to be like... Like plot, and such. I've always been a fan of Style and KennyxButters (was gonna shorten it, like Style, to Kutters, but that just sounded depressing!!) and I think it's time that I pounded some out of this monomaniacal, obsessive compulsive brain!!!

Heeyah, bitch! REVIEWWWWWW!!!!! 


End file.
